Seasons of Love
by PaintByGinger
Summary: I'm not stupid. I didn't run when I realized I liked James. Nor did I flip out internally, or deny it blatantly, or slip into a comatose state of depression. I didn't scream, I didn't hit anything, I didn't cry. LJ


Just a little oneshot that I started writing. I got a little fed up with how people viewed Lily and James and their relationship. Not that it's my place to say anything, but I thought I'd write my own little two-cents. It's basically a summery thing, and it was written from twelve to four AM, so it's a bit crappy as well. But whatever. I actually enjoy it, a bit. I love Lily's and James' relationship. I'm sorry if James is a bit out of character, I don't mention his past pranking days a lot. I hope you enjoy! It's in Lily's Point of View.

Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling.

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**Seasons of Love**

I'm not stupid. I didn't run when I realized I liked James. Nor did I flip out internally, or deny it blatantly, or slip into a comatose state of depression. I didn't scream, I didn't hit anything, I didn't cry. In fact, my realization was perfectly normal. Well, not normal. Nothing can ever be normal, truly. However, that's not the point.

The point is, when I realized I liked James Potter, my life didn't change. I didn't do anything drastic, like cut my hair or change my wardrobe. I didn't skip classes or meals. I didn't stop talking to my friends. And I definitely didn't avoid James.

No, instead, it was almost reverse. He became a magnet to me, a fascination. I found myself longing to be near him, an irrational want as I had told myself (and anyone I spoke to) in past years that I downright hated him.

Hate. It's such a peculiar thing. There are so many different emotions tied into hate. Anger, sadness, fear, longing. Hating a song on the radio is different than hating a best friend for that secret she told. But it's the same word that's used. And isn't love the same way? Loving a piece of artwork and truly being in deep and total love… well, it's certainly not the similar. Oh, now I'm sidetracking. Sorry.

Back to my point: when I realized I liked James Potter, I simply blushed and continued on with my life. However, that's not to say that in earlier years I denied him. I'd deny to myself that he was gorgeous out on the Quidditch pitch, crouching on his broom to make a goal, hair whipped by the wind, sheen of sweat on his brow. I'd tell myself that a git such as him was not gorgeous. It was a mere façade to cancel out his appalling personality. That's the reasoning I used to assure myself, at least.

I think It was around fifth year when I finally admitted to myself he was attractive. After the Incident, the one where James hexed Severus… the one where Severus called me a mudblood.

It seems like such a childish insult, mudblood. Had I been called it when I was eight, I'd have laughed and shook my head at how silly it was. I'd have taunted "mudblood? Please. You're such a toe-rag". But then I was whisked into a world of magic, where everything's upside down and so bass-ackwords from my muggle reality that I could barely function for the first few months of my life as a witch.

That was where Severus came into play, if you think of my life as a game of chess. Sure, he was around before that. My playmate in the small neighborhood where I grew up, beside Petunia. In fact, Severus introduced me to the whole Wizarding World. He explained unfathomable entities to me, like Fizzing Wizzbees and Quidditch. He and I even went to Ollivander's together, to get our wands. That was also the first time I saw James. We simply bumped into each other, blushed and coughed awkward, apologized, and then walked away. As if we were simply little bugs on the windshields of each other's lives. One second there, one second swept away by wipers.

It hurt. When Severus called me a mudblood, it felt as if my world was ripped at the seams. Not that I didn't know it was coming. Believe me, I was well aware. It had been months since we'd actually spoken to each other and long since we'd hung out like actual friends. Once he had been sorted into Slytherin, and I into Gryffindor, our relationship fell apart and it became apparent where each of our loyalties lay. Mine with studying and his with The Dark Lord.

From the first moment of being inducted into Slytherin, Severus was caught up in the glamour of Death Eaters. The way they spouted about superiority and a 'pure' world (in all truth, nothing is pure about Death Eaters). He learned to sneer, walk, talk, and dress like them. He learned their petty insults and snide comments. Worst of all, he learned their intense prejudices.

Watching my memory of The Incident is like watching an old Home Video tape. It plays back in black and white, parts growing fuzzy or the sound ceasing. But when the infamous word was uttered from his lips, it plays in full color and full sound. In fact, the sound is nearly deafening.

"_**I don't need your help, Mudblood." **_

And then, the Video almost becomes interactive. I feel what I felt in that moment. My whole world turns and there I am, a fifth year, tormented by a dirty name from a now-dirty mouth. I can feel the tight ponytail pulling my shiny red hair back. I can feel the shame well up in my heart, the heat of a blush on my cheeks. Worst of all, I can feel the force of the tight lump in my throat, the prickling in my nose, and the warmth of tears welling in my eyes.

Feeling was my greatest fear in school. I was afraid of emotion. I shut down to it. That day was the last time I walled off how I felt. However, in that moment, I blocked the welling tears. My face became as cold as icy marble, and my gaze turned as steely and intimidating as the Empire State Building. From there on out, the memory goes back to its nondescript black and white. It goes back to being the past.

But, that one second, those six words… they will haunt me forever. Those words are akin to "I think we should take a break" to me. The way those words affected me, you'd have thought that Severus was the love of my life. I'll explain now that he's not, nor was he ever. I loved him in the way every girl loves their best friend: with fierce loyalty and undying trust. And once that is betrayed… Well, it's enough to send one reeling and into a comatose state. Thankfully, I wasn't the comatose state kind of girl.

That isn't to say I got over it quickly. In a way, I'm still not over it. The moment I walked away from the situation, I broke like a damn. I ran to the nearest washroom (which happened to be Moaning Myrtle's). I skipped dinner that night, spending my whole afternoon in there. I sat against one of the walls on the dank bathroom floor, hugging my knees to my chest, and sobbed. Not movie sobs, where the heroine is gorgeous, though her mascara runs down her face. No, these were gut-wrenching, noisy, swelling sobs. they puffed up my lips and face, making my nose run. Thankfully, Myrtle left me alone, going off to haunt some other poor unfortunate soul.

I'd like to say it was James Potter who gallantly came to the rescue. In a perfect world, he'd burst in, a tense look of concern on his face. He'd rush over, gather me up into his arms, and kiss away the tears and emotional wreckage.

Instead, it was my roommate and best friend Alice who came and picked up the pieces, in a way that only a best girl friend can do. She bashed Severus, slandering his name to me, cooing all the while and stroking my hair. Eventually, I calmed down, and we headed back to the Gryffindor dorms to sleep. For a few days after that, my mood was melancholy, but I eventually rose above that, delving back into my school work with the same fervor as before. My grades never dipped or swayed, the incident naught but a haunting reminder of the past.

Thankfully, after the incident, James stopped asking me out. Perhaps my insult finally broke through his thick skull and made it into his brain. I knew he kept tabs on me, though. He'd watch me in class or at meals, even in the common room, as usual. He'd nod at me when we passed each other in the halls, but his expression never melted into his usually goofy grin that I'd grown accustomed too. Now his expression was calm, but serious, when his gaze was on me. The change irritated me, and I was forced to wonder if I was bothered by the lack of attention he now gave me.

To some extent, I was. But then again, I was also relieved that the spotlight was no longer on me. Then, a train wreck of thoughts crashed into my mind. Had he found another girl to pick on and shower with devotion? By now, my realization of his handsome demeanor had been accepted and even gratified. So, I watched him closely, for a sign that he liked someone else.

The answer pleased me. He didn't stare at any other girls the way he stared at me. I saw him making no move to sit next to someone special, or gather up that famed Gryffindor Courage to talk to a different girl. It was just as if he decided to finally give me my space.

Somehow, this action was worse. I began to feel a pressure that wasn't there before. The space he gave me now felt claustrophobic. As if he was waiting for me to eventually come around and beg him to ask me out. This, in turn, garnered up my rage toward him again, and I was once more back to my usual self, glaring at James in class and hissing "Potter, you moron!" when he did something wrong or stupid.

The look on his face after one of my outbursts was enough to kill a girl. He'd always look so annoyed, not to mention caught off guard and bewildered (if one could look all those things in one expression). He'd no longer grin and laugh boisterously, but sigh and respond in a resolved tone. His lack of vivaciousness hurt, and I found myself taking out these pent up aggressions on him, unknowingly (and yet, at the same time, knowingly) sending him into worse of a spiral. It felt good to see him suffer. But that glory on my part only lasted a few days.

And then, suddenly, it ceased. I was back at home, my fifth year over. I was no longer seeing James every day, and this suited me just fine. Except for that it didn't. When I wasn't thinking about him, I was dreaming about him. I was constantly in a tizzy over whether he'd found a summer fling, or was still thinking about me, or if he now hated my guts. Looking back now, it was the worst summer of my life. Never had I been so relieved to get back to Hogwarts, just to see if things between me and James would be normal.

It was on that fated train ride to Hogwarts, sitting in a relatively empty compartment with Alice, that I realized I liked James. I blushed a bit, but I didn't freak out. I used that torturously long ride to contemplate such emotions and decide that maybe liking him wasn't the worst thing in the world. That night, once I was intoxicated with the delicious food of Hogwarts and swaddled once again in its protective walls, I spilled my thoughts to Alice in our dorm, sitting on her bed, a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans between us. Her eyes glittered with delight and she pronounced that she always knew. I grinned and rolled my eyes, telling her to shove it.

It was slightly saddening that my relationship with James hadn't changed over the summer. We both had, on maturity levels and physical appearances, but there was a tension between us. He seemed brooding and serious in class, at least around me, though I'd catch him laughing and joking with his friends. It was almost like seeing a ghost, or a mirage. The site of his goofy grin had been a long-missed luxury that I had been deprived of.

It was then that I decided I should put my Gryffindor Courage to good use and make friends with James, secretly hoping to achieve the ability to make him smile that goofy grin at me, something that I was becoming near obsessed with.

One crisp afternoon in September, I finally approached James after Transfiguration, asking for his help. It was the only class he was able to beat me in, his scores far over Outstanding. Mine were hovering below an Acceptable. We agreed on a study time, and suddenly Wednesday evening became the highlight of my week.

At first, our study sessions were awkward and stiff. Eventually, though, we both relaxed. It was in those first few nights that two things developed: my higher grades in Transfiguration and a brand new friendship with James. Not only a friendship with him, but three extras were thrown in. It seemed to be a rule with the Marauders that you not only associated with one, but with all. I didn't mind, though. Suddenly, Sirius Black's offhanded sexual remarks weren't irritating (well, they were), but highly amusing. I enjoyed the repartee between the boys, and often invited Alice along when I found myself invited to traipse around the grounds with The Marauders.

My sixth year flies by, passing much too quickly for my liking. I sink deeper into a void of affection towards James, no longer able to claw myself out and escape. Voldemort is on the rise, but the terror in the Wizarding World seems to be planets away. It's almost as if nothing can pierce the sheltered little bubble that Hogwarts has created for me.

Until one morning, when unexpectedly, I'm summoned to Dumbledore's office. I'm suddenly dreadful and curious and guilty at once. I always feel guilty when summoned by a teacher, though I've usually nothing to feel guilty for. I'm called out of the Defense classroom, and James gives me a reassuring smile on the way out.

Within the next few minutes, my world crumples around me. In the Headmaster's office, I'm told that my parents have been murdered by Voldemort. I'm given a letter from my sister, who harshly forbids me from attending the funeral, a shock worse than the two deaths thrust upon me.

The next few weeks are hell. I feel alone in a crowded room. I rarely speak, though I throw myself into my work as a distraction. My grades are higher than they've ever been. However, my relationships are strained. For some reason, Remus and James are no longer speaking with Sirius, Peter is often nowhere to be found, and Alice has found solace in a relationship with Frank Longbottom.

And then, it gets better. As time passes, the ache from the deaths of my parents lessens (though I have never gotten over it). The Marauders once again speak with each other, and I'm suddenly included in their witty banter. Life looks positive again.

The year ends, and this time, I spend my summer with Alice. I haven't been to my parents' house, though I still have many belongings there. However, nothing is important, as all my valuable belongings are always taken with me to Hogwarts. I decide to leave all the paper work to Petunia. In January I turned seventeen, a legal adult in the Wizarding World, a world where I truly belong.

The summer passes quickly and quietly, though every day the Daily Prophet as more news on deaths and muggle baiting and other acts of terrorism by Voldemort. Alice and I help her parents set protections on their house, and we're each sent a letter by Dumbledore, with an address on it and a date. As soon as our eyes flit across the paper, it disappears. However, we remember the information. It's our induction into the Order of the Phoenix. Many of our classmates and alumni of Hogwarts are there as well. I see James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, and quickly head over, exchanging hugs and hellos. My hug with James is awkward, though, both of us unsure with what to do. He settles for kissing my cheek, grinning his trademark goofy grin when he notices the intense blush on my cheeks.

Between Order meetings and lazing around in the sun, the summer is soon gone. I'm off to Hogwarts as Head Girl, aware that I'm working alongside James. My excitement can hardly be contained, but I'm suddenly awkward and clumsy around him, blushing more than I ever have. He makes me feel uncertain and childish in the best way imaginable.

As the year progresses, we date, and I don't think I could even begin to imagine anything better. It's cliché, but I could swear that there's a part of me that's been reattached, almost as if it was James that was missing all along. I'm proud of myself for having sucked down my immature anger towards him, and I'm ecstatic that I didn't miss out on the best thing that ever happened to me.

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Did you like it? Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading ^_^


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